Dangerous Connection
by CrazyLabRat
Summary: "I don't know exactly when it happened. Can't remember when it started. This game between us... I always knew when he was near, though. When his sight was narrowed to only me. And the more it happened, the more I found I liked it."
1. Maybe this night was all a dream

A/N: Hello again, everyone. I know this isn't any of the stories that I'd promised, and I know it's been a while, but this decided that it wanted attention first... And who am I to deny my muses? This is my first posting ever for this fandom, anywhere. Though it is not the first story, and was actually completed some time ago, it is being reworked and the editing kind of took over as the plot developed into something much larger then it's original 5K word count. Interesting side note, the original name for this fic was 'Look My Way' but changed to the name of the song I've been listening to on repeat while editing/rewriting it. I recommend listening to it if you have the time. It's by O.A.R. Please review! Let me know what you think. Also, flames keep me warm AND entertained. *Evil laughter echoes* Now, on with the story...

.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.

Blue grey eyes were on me again. They watched my every move. I could feel it as if it were an actual touch, a caress, to my skin. I don't know exactly when it happened. Can't remember when it started. This game between us... I always knew when he was near, though. When his sight was narrowed to only me. And the more it happened, the more I found I liked it. It was strange but he's been watching me for so long, that I anticipated it… _longed _for it even. Which made no sense at all.

Harry Potter _longing_ for Draco Malfoy's cool gaze…

If only people knew. It would no doubt cause quite the stir. But honestly, I didn't much care. I mean… everything I do seems to cause a stir for one reason or another, so I've just learned to ignore it as best I can. But you know, as much as I dislike being the center of attention… I can't help but revel in the fact that more often then not, I'm the center of _his_ attention.

Foolish of me, I know.

Still, I found my eyes searching him out whenever he was near. Found that my day was incomplete, if it so happened that we didn't speak… Though, truthfully, he always cornered me at least once a day. His words were always biting and cold, like the first frost, but his touch… his hands were always _warm_.

Warm and_ tempting_.

Tempting, in such a way that I had no real words to describe it. I started picking fights with him in fifth year. I had no idea why I was doing it, then. Only knew that I needed to… ignorant as that may sound. And though I knew it was odd, knew that there was something off about this sudden _need_ to be physical… I found I didn't much care. Plus, luck seemed to be in my favor. At least, in that regard. It had miraculously gone unnoticed by everyone. Well… everyone except Draco himself, of course.

He'd cornered my one night, up in the owlry. To this day I don't know how he'd found me. Maybe he'd been following me regularly and had learned my pattern? Perhaps that's how he'd known where I'd go? It's entirely possible, knowing him. Still, the fact remains that he'd cornered me. I'd say literally but there are no actual corners up there. No, instead he jumped out from the shadows and managed to pin me against the wall, without so much as a warning. And yes, I admit, that the initial shock of the grey-blue of his eyes so close to mine took a moment to overcome.

But that wasn't what kept me from struggling.

His cheeks were ruddy, as if he'd been out there for some time. And his breathing was harsh and labored while his hands pressed me forcefully, back into the wall. To make sure, I assume, that I didn't try and run. Though, really, there was no need for such drastic measures. His eyes alone could keep me stationary for as long as he liked. He had but not to blink.

"What the devil is wrong with you, Potter?"

Again, I blinked. Having no idea what he was going on about. "Begging your pardon, Malfoy… but I'm the one being pinned here, not the other way around. I only came out here to think. Not quarrel." He laughed humorlessly, while he took the time to scrutinize my face. In such a way that I couldn't help but fidget nervously…

"You've been different lately… something's off. And bugger all if I know why, but it seems I'm the only one to notice... probably because you've been trying to use me as a veritable punching bag. Care to elaborate on that one, do you?"

His voice held none of the usual malice. Which was so strange to hear. Especially when he was speaking to me. No, if anything, he seemed curious, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he'd sounded slightly put out. "I've done no such thing. I can count the times I've actually punched you on one hand. And none of those times were recent…"

He cut me off and leaned a little closer, a self-satisfied smirk gracing his pale pink lips. "Ah, but that's the real question, isn't it? You start all these fights, but you haven't… you don't even raise your wand. Hell, you don't even punch me! But god damn it, I refuse to be shoved into another wall, or end up rolling around with you on the floor again… like… like some bloody muggle!"

I moved to swing at him, purely out of reflex, but stopped short when I realized he actually hadn't said anything wrong. He decided to continue, seeing as I'd made no move to respond verbally. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but it's strange. Even for you…" And he was right. I _was_ strange. Because I couldn't stop staring at the way the candles illuminated his hair as the white-blonde tresses, left un-gelled for once, fell just above his eyes. Couldn't stop staring at his lips whenever his tongue peaked out to wet them, a nervous habit he had, that I was certain even he wasn't aware of. I simply couldn't look away from his heated gaze, and a fire totally unrelated but entirely his fault had lit somewhere deep in my belly. With that realization came a jolt of uncertainty and I wildly looked about the room, knowing only one thing. I needed to get away. Now.

"Let off, Malfoy." It was more of a weak plea then the demand I'd intended, and he'd noticed that too. His eyes widened just the tiniest bit before they narrowed, and his grip on me tightened. Our proximity was too much, I think. Because my breath, I couldn't seem to catch it, and my heart thudded so terribly loudly that I was certain he could hear every single erratic beat. He was just staring into my eyes. Seemingly searching for something. Whatever it was, he must have found it, because his trademark smirk surfaced, but it was different this time. Because there was no trace of mocking or distain in his face… and then there wasn't much room for thoughts about anything else.

He was just… _beautiful_.

"So _that's_ it, is it?"

I had no idea what he was going on about, but I couldn't help watching his lips move while he spoke. I had to look back up into his eyes a second later, though. Because he leaned closer, for just a second, and I found I couldn't breathe at all.

My eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments, but then, just like that… he was gone. I panicked and re-opened them, only to see that he was by the door, some twenty feet away. He wasn't looking at me, he'd had his back turned, but he spoke over his shoulder.

"Just be sure, Potter, that when you start something with me… you know _exactly_ what it is you're starting." Baffled, I stood there dumbly, blinking in confusion. Long after he'd vanished through the doorway, I still stood there, at a total loss. Just what in blue blazes was that supposed to mean? I mean, really? An hour had passed, at least, and I'd still had no idea. But by then, I'd decided that enough was enough. I needed some sleep after all.

When I returned to Gryffindor tower, I changed into my pajamas and went to bed quietly. I made no move to wake Ron. Nor did I plan on telling him or Hermione about any of the events that had played out that night. It somehow felt too personal… too private. For once I felt like they were moments that belonged me alone. Or rather… to Malfoy and I alone. What that meant, exactly?

Well, I hadn't reasoned that out just yet.

It would be the length of another year entirely, before a second moment that I couldn't quantify occurred between Malfoy and I.

Just after Christmas.

It was I who'd cornered him this time. But not for the reason one might expect. I hadn't followed him looking or a fight. I'd followed him because I'd thought I'd seen something so utterly impossible that I'd had no choice. I had to disprove it. We'd just left Potions, Snape being as snarky and as menacing as he ever was, when I'd noticed… Malfoy had been walking ahead of everyone. Making a point to keep his head down, something so very unlike him that I couldn't help but be curious. I jogged up to him and reached out, not really sure of what I'd expected to find. But when his eyes met mine, for the briefest moment, I'd thought I'd seen pain barely contained within them. And not the usual sort… Nothing physical. No, it was something deeper. Something most anyone else wouldn't notice. But it was there. And I'd know that type of torment anywhere.

After all, I'd seen it every day within my own reflection for my entire life. He shoved me away wordlessly and carried on down the corridor, his shoulders hunched… and I almost let him go.

But I knew he was suffering. And something made me follow.

He led me out onto the grounds, halfway towards the Quidditch pitch. And I say led because though I didn't know it then, that's what he'd been intending. I saw him stop, but I kept walking. Closing the distance until there was less then five feet of space between us.

That was when he rounded on me. Eyes furious and intent.

"I hate you!"

The force with which it had been spoken blew me away. Not because of the volume, but because of the emotion behind it.

He stepped closer, slowly. Though I'd been shocked into place since he'd spoken, it seemed to be what set him in motion. I'd time to blink twice before he was close enough to touch with my hand. It would have been easy; I had only but to lift it. It surprised me when he stepped closer still. So close… that our noses could brush if either of us inhaled too heavily.

His breath erratic, but slowing, fanned over my lower jaw... It made my own breath stutter and catch in turn.

"I hate you… I hate you and I hate this… all of it. Can't _stand_ it any longer. It's your fault, you know? That I'm in such a state…" He'd started out in a low clear voice but he'd ended in a whisper… and his eyes kept flicking down for a moment and then back up to meet mine.

I had the strangest urge to close the minuscule space between us.

To what point and purpose? I hadn't the foggiest. Which is what made it so very strange in the first place.

"I'm sorry…"

The words were out before I'd even realized I'd been thinking them. But they were true, just the same. I _was_ sorry. Why? I had no idea… other then the fact that somehow I _knew_ he wasn't lying. Somehow, some way… it was a fact. The pain in his eyes was entirely my fault.

And that hurt me too… for reasons I couldn't explain. Not just then, anyway.

I opened my mouth again to speak, but I didn't know what else to say, really. So I just left the apology hanging there. And I stood… Frozen in place while he looked right through me, into my very core.

"I told you, Potter… I _told_ you. You shouldn't blindly stumble into something without knowing the consequences… But you've already started this, haven't you?" I swallowed thickly, my mouth suddenly very dry. He'd moved even closer, our chests brushing every few seconds. Breathing that last part right into my ear, and all I could think about was how good he smelled. How fair his skin really was.

"And now I can't help myself. I can't even get through a single bloody day without thinking about…" And he'd trailed off then. Backing away ever so slowly while he shook his head. Whether it was to clear his mind or to wash away whatever he'd been about to say, I'd never know. And it was only then, when he was more then ten feet away from me again, that I actually felt the chill of the night air around us. The heat from his body, and eyes, had kept me warm… but now both were gone. He'd turned around again, facing the pitch this time.

"Just leave me be." I moved to ignore his request and took a step forward, unsure of what I wanted to say, only knowing that I should speak. He rounded on me once again. "Leave off, Harry. Go back to your perfect little tower with your perfect little life and let me be."

I furrowed my brow, utterly perplexed. Because the way he said my name… Something in the way his voice trembled… It just, it didn't sound like he wanted me to leave at all, despite his words to the contrary.

"I can't."

Two words and I had his undivided attention. Every fiber of him focused on me and nothing else. I found I liked that, very much indeed… So I kept speaking.

"I haven't been able to leave you alone for five years. What in the world makes you think I could possibly start now?" He laughed, then. Actually laughed. And it shocked me, because it was such a genuine sound, one I realized I hadn't heard much at all through the past few months. Not once in the corridors was he laughing and joking with his friends this year. And I knew that that had somehow been my fault as well.

"I'm serious. I _can't_. I've tried to. Really, I have… But you're always there, and it's like I have no choice. I _have_ to react…"

He cut me off with a wave of his hand.

"Come to me when you've decided what it is that you want here, Potter. I don't want to hear another word until then." And the way he said that, with such finality, I'd no choice but to nod. Even though I had no idea what he'd been talking about, or even what I'd agreed to… It was all circles and riddles.

If he would just speak _plainly_…

I'd glanced down for a few moments, and when I looked back up again, I found him gone. Like one of the many ghosts that haunt the school, and I wondered how he'd managed that. But strangely, I wasn't surprised by it.

It was only a few short months after that, that Ginny and I had started dating. I'd thought for sure that the person who'd have the most to say on the matter would be Malfoy. And I wasn't the only one… But whenever I looked for his face in the Great Hall, he was nowhere to be found. Whenever we had lessons together, it was like he wouldn't even look at me, didn't _see_ me. A fact that bothered me more and more as time went on. But I did nothing. I remained silent and settled for watching him whenever the opportunity struck. That year had ended soon after and summer with the Dursley's hadn't been a prospect I'd been looking forward to… But Ron had promised to rescue me so I'd simply waited it out. And rescue me, he did.

Ginny and I hadn't even lasted through the latter half of that summer, though. Not because her attraction to me had lessened any. No. It had actually been entirely my doing. There had been no spark when we'd kissed. More to the point… There hadn't been anything at all. No butterflies in my stomach. No tingle in my lips. No spark… just… Nothing. And I'd told her so. Looking back on it, I sometimes think that perhaps that hadn't been wise. I could have been a bit more tactful or something, but alas I was young then. At first she wouldn't hear it, and then, when she finally did… well, she'd fallen under the impression that she'd done something wrong. But I think it's pretty difficult to muck up something as simple as pressing your lips to someone else's. And I'd told her that too.

That summer had been lonely and then rather awkward, so I'd been glad to see it go.

And then our final year had come...


	2. Maybe this night was all for me

A/N: Chapter two, for your reading pleasure. There are sexual themes in this particular chapter between our two favorite rivals. Fair warning. Now, on with the story...

.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.

I hadn't seen him in two months. Two months and I'd thought that perhaps my fascination with him had ended. Because he no longer plagued my every thought… Because I could finally go to bed every evening without dreaming of his eyes and the way they'd looked that night, out there in the cold…

But I'd been wrong.

He'd grown. He was almost a head taller then I, now. And his hair was rather long, but not slicked back, nor gelled. It was tied loosely at the back of his neck. Our eyes connected just as I was about to board the train and he smiled. I couldn't breathe.

He was absolutely _stunning_.

I don't remember following Hermione into our usual car, and I certainly don't remember what Ron had been going on about the whole way to the school. I don't recall much of anything, really, beyond those cool blue eyes and the heat they'd directed at me. All I could think about was Draco.

I do remember that he was suddenly everywhere, though. And I mean _everywhere_. It seemed that no matter where I looked, there he was. Looking as perfect as ever. We still threw insults at each other, still got into the occasional scuffle… but somewhere along the way, it became more of an odd ritual of sorts. There was no actual force behind any of what we said. Nor was there ever any power behind our punches. It was like it was all for show... or a new level to our game. I knew now that I used these exchanges as an excuse to touch him. Understood that I was attracted to him… that I _wanted_ him.

And with that revelation and understanding came the sexual tension.

Every time he touched me, it was like a shock to my system. Every time we spoke, I wanted nothing more then to press my lips to his. To stop his horrible words with my tongue…

To see if maybe, he'd kiss me back.

I'd been seeking him out more often. Talking to him in between most every class. Yes, they were insults, but he always… _always_ responded. He was always right there. Was always looking right back at me.

The aforementioned tension came to a head some two months later. It was an empty classroom in the middle of the night, a room that wasn't used often, and I was glad of that. It meant there was less of a chance that we might be interrupted. By teacher or cat. I'd been the one to lead him this time. During our 'fight' in Herbology I'd whispered that we should meet. That we needed to talk... His only reply then had been a nod. But at lunch Hedwig had dropped a note onto my plate that read only:

_**One a.m. **_

_**Too many eyes and ears otherwise.**_

It hadn't been signed, but it hadn't needed to be. I looked up and caught his eye, an easy task since he'd already been looking at me, and nodded. Then I tucked the note into my pocket, taking care to fold it properly. Ron and Hermione had been too busy cuddling to notice any of it, and for that I was grateful.

Sneaking away had been a terribly easy affair. I'd used the marauder's map and watched him leave the dungeons, then met him in the corridor. Silently, I'd nodded for him to follow, and he'd fallen into step with me easily. I remember finding the whole thing ironic. And I smiled to myself as I watched our feet as we went. It would have looked odd to anyone who knew us. To see us walking side-by-side, down any of these halls. Just the idea was preposterous. But I rather liked it. Our arms and hands had brushed every so often and the sensation lit little sparks that skidded up and down the entire length of my arm. I didn't move away to prevent it, and neither did he.

Minutes later and he was standing not three feet in front of me, waiting. When I didn't speak right away, he crossed his arms and sighed. "What's this all about, then?"

I'd sighed, then too. Because he knew perfectly well what this was about. It was clear when I looked at him… From the posture he held to the glint in his eyes, it was painfully evident. He was well aware of the effect he had on me. He just wanted me to say it out loud…

To admit it before he had to.

He was always touchy when it came to showing certain weaknesses first. And this was no exception. But I didn't know how to phrase it, whatever this is. And I didn't want to muck it up with foolish chatter and babbling nonsense. So I stepped closer to him instead. For his part, he didn't bat an eyelash. Not even when I was close enough to feel him breathing. Though, I knew, better then most, exactly how good he was at masking his real emotions. And when I felt his breath finally hitch as I leaned into his personal space, I smiled, and whispered into his ear.

"I'm here, Malfoy… Because I know what I want." I let my left hand reach up and rest on his hip, gently pulling him into me. He came willingly enough, one of his own hands settling on the small of my back. His expression stayed neutral, though. I bit my bottom lip.

"And?" His voice was but a whisper of breath down my neck and the soft skin of his lips brushed the shell of my ear. I shivered lightly. Having never really been this close to someone else. At least, not in this context… It sounds so odd, even to me. But no one had ever been that… gentle with me. To be touched in such a simple yet intimate way, it astounded me.

I never knew that just the brush of fingertips could feel like that.

My mouth had gone dry, and my palms were sweating, but I was actually fairly calm. Calmer then I feel I should have been. But while that revelation swam through me, Draco had been growing rather impatient. When I hadn't replied quickly enough for his liking, he fisted my tee shirt with the hand still on my back, and spoke with a voice that commanded attention. "Harry, you have to tell me… _Say it_. What do you want?"

"You."

I'd barely gotten the word out before I found his lips on mine. Hungry and demanding, and I opened to him. And I don't mean just my mouth. I had decided, over the two months before then, that he could have whatever he liked of me. Could take whatever he wanted, just as long as I could have him, too.

Even if it was only for a little while…

And I'm not daft, not by any means. I knew full well that whatever this was, it wasn't going to last. It couldn't… simple as that. But that didn't mean that I was going to let the opportunity pass me by, either. Honestly, it's a miracle that I'd lived this long already, and I'd no idea if I was going to be living for much longer as it was. So if I've learned anything from life, it is simply this: Take what you can, when you can. And appreciate it.

So that is what I'd intended to do.

I'd had to crane my neck up a bit, him being as tall as he is. But that didn't matter at all. His mouth was warm, and inviting and his tongue was ever so playful. Challenging mine. Teasing and flicking so deliciously that I moaned. And then I was being pressed into the wall. I still don't really know how he'd managed it. I didn't recall walking the thirty odd feet, but there it was, against my back. And there he was, _right there_, against me.

His hands pushed my clothing aside, as his lips moved away from mine to map out my neck and collarbone. I tugged at his robes weakly, trying to reach him through them. Wanting to see if his skin was really as soft and supple as it had looked.

It was softer, as it turned out…

And he was _sensitive_.

The skin of his neck between my teeth, as I toyed my tongue over it… The bare patch if flesh at the small of his back where my fingers drew lazy circles… His cheek, where my other hand held him hostage, to make sure he couldn't just up and leave the kiss we shared…

Everywhere, it seemed.

Because he made these soft noises in the back of his throat, and his breath hitched and stuttered. His hands flexed and his pulse jumped.

And blimey, but that was almost unbearable.

Why?

The answer to that is quite simple really…

It made me feel like a god.

I held him tighter and panted into his mouth as he captured mine again. I could feel the effect this was having on him, just as well as he could feel my own desire. Plain as day… and yet, hidden within this darkened room in the middle of the night. If I'd had the sense of mind, I might have chuckled at the irony. As it was, I could barely breathe, let alone think anything beyond his name cycling through my brain.

It sounds terrible, and I still blush scarlet to this day whenever I think on it, but I actually climaxed from the very first touch of his hand. In fact, I'd barely had time to register the firm grip he'd had around me before I was lost to the oblivion of white-hot pleasure surging through my veins. And I'd honestly thought for sure that he'd laugh and sneer at me, proclaiming his prowess and putting mine down in one fell swoop. But when I looked at him through half lidded eyes, panting as I leaned my head back against the wall, he was licking his lips. Seemingly lost in the sight I must have made. My legs wrapped around him, my robes open, shirt pushed up, and the fly of my jeans undone. Exposing me to the air.

I was determined to make him feel it too. I wanted to see him lose control... to watch him fall apart under my hand. So I set one wobbly leg down, followed by the other… and used the surprise of the moment to pin him to the wall, almost reversing our positions entirely.

It was easy enough to work his trousers open, easier still to sink to my knees, as my legs still couldn't stop shaking. My hand trembled when I pushed his underwear down far enough to expose him to me fully. I looked up at his gasp and saw that his cheeks were flushed a deep red, his pupils dilated, and his eyes fixed firmly on my mouth. A fact that I couldn't help grinning over. In retrospect, I know that it was probably the worst head anyone has ever received, but he didn't complain. Nor did he seem to care. He panted my name, and his hips twitched and trembled as if he were trying desperately to control them. To stop himself from hurting me…

He tried to speak, but his words were garbled, half choked and ragged. Unintelligible. And then an unsteady hand had slipped into my hair, almost caressing my head and I couldn't help it… I moaned.

His fingers squeezed and he practically screamed, as my mouth was suddenly flooded. And five minutes later, when we were both panting and leaning against each other's shoulders, with our backs to the wall; he curled his arm around me, and pulled me close. Gently running the tips of his fingers through the short strands of hair at the back of my neck.

I have no idea how long we stayed there like that. I do know that some long while later, he pulled me into a slow, searing kiss and rested his forehead against mine. His eyes were warm, yet fierce as he regarded me.

"No more mucking about, Potter. No more dating the Weaselette… No more games. You're mine." I swallowed thickly, unable to define why the timber of his voice sent a shiver down my spine. Furrowing my brow in rebellion, I shook my head once, if only to help clear it.

"I don't belong to anyone Malfoy. I am no one's property." The words were clear, and I meant them. But to take the sting out of them, I lifted a hand to cup his cheek. And I couldn't help but think that if I did, and if it were to him… then maybe, I could be happy. I was never one for subtleties, and I opened my mouth to speak again, but he'd moved before I'd had the time.

He 'd stood, quick as a flash of lighting, and straightened his robes. His cheeks flushed again, but with obvious anger this time. "Say whatever you like, Potter… but some part of you will always belong to me now. You cannot simply take what we've done back." He'd slammed the door on his way out, and I'd flinched. What did that even mean anyway? I'd no idea then, and I never got the chance to ask him.

Two days after that, he'd left Hogwarts for good.


	3. All I can say, it's a big surprise

A/N: Hello again, everyone! I'm glad to see that this story is getting such positive responses. ^.^ Here's the next chapter. Enjoy! Oh, and if you do actually enjoy it, or hate it... or feel anything at all about it, then please review! Thank you.

.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.

I heard later on, a few months down the line, that he'd abandoned his father, and Voldemort. That he'd fled overseas. And a part of me couldn't help but wonder if maybe, maybe he'd done it because of me.

It's been seven years since then. The fall of Tom Riddle had come and gone, but still Draco had not returned to the country, or to the Malfoy Manor. And not a single day has gone by that I haven't thought of him in some manner or fashion. Wondering where he was, or if he were happy. My days were now spent at Hogwarts, yet again. Only this time, I'm here as a professor. The idea still makes me smile. Because the subject I teach happens to be Defense Against The Dark Arts. Snape actually resigned when Dumbledore made the announcement last year. In private, he'd said that he couldn't possibly teach at a school where they hired professors who were likely to blow the school up or curse their own foot off, but he'd been smirking when he'd said it. Dumbledore told me later, that he'd been talking of retirement for at least two years prior anyway, and that I'd probably just given him a proper excuse. He is doing well in his retirement these days. I intend to pay him another visit, soon.

Though, I doubt I'll make it out before the start of the new term. Which is only a scant few days away. He always sneers and calls me names, but he moves out of the way and lets me in, and makes me disgusting tea... every single time. I think, on some level, he respects me… even if he doesn't like me. He asks me, almost every time, why it is that I even bother to pay him visits 'When you know perfectly well that your presence is entirely unwanted.' I still don't have an answer for him beyond my customary joke of 'Because I'm a glutton for punishment, I suppose.' If nothing else, it always manages to put an almost-smile on his face.

I can't say that our conversations are very interesting otherwise. After all, we barely speak while I am there. And I never stay for very long, either. But every so often, he gets a letter from Draco. And every once in a while, he mentions his godson. Little things really… Like the fact that Draco had been right to leave the country when he had. Or that he had so much more sense then I, and why hadn't I ever bothered to learn from his example? That question in particular never failed to amuse me, but I never let my expression falter. I knew that Snape was only trying to rile me up in some fashion. But it actually had the reverse effect. I find that news and talk of him calms me. Soothes me in a way that I don't quite know how to articulate, even to myself.

I haven't been doing much else with my time, I'll admit. I visit with Ron, and Hermione. Happily married and still very much in love. I don't visit as often as I should with them. And though I know it, I just can't bring myself to floo over more then once or twice a month. Not because I am jealous of what they have, what they've found in one another… but because it shows me exactly how lonely I really am. I always leave feeling like something vital is missing, and I have no idea how to find it.

Let alone where to start looking.

Ah, well… perhaps that isn't entirely true... but no matter. I spend most of my time at Hogwarts… the first place that has ever felt like a home to me. It's also true enough that I have an actual home now, my home, but something about these halls never fails to soothe me.

I was on my way to the Great Hall for the sorting feast two days later, when I thought I'd seen a flash of white blond hair in the crowd up ahead. I shook my head to clear it and shuffled past the first years, and returning students, to take my seat with all of the other professors. It wasn't until Dumbledore had begun speaking that I noticed an empty chair to my left. And upon glancing around, I was puzzled… because every teacher was seated and accounted for.

With this in mind I turned back to the Headmaster and waited for him to finish his announcements, knowing that this would be explained soon enough.

"As many of you know, we lost Severus Snape, our Potion's master, to retirement this past semester. As sad as I am to report this, I am just as happy to announce our newest staff member. This year, Draco Malfoy will be our latest edition to the Hogwarts…" I tuned him out after that, because the door to my left opened and I'd turned toward the sound in slight shock.

And there he stood.

Regal, and elegant… Perfect as ever. He'd bowed once, to everyone in the room, and then made his way to the empty seat beside me. There was a silence in the hall that was so thick it was almost deafening. Some part of me registered that it might be because Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, perhaps the most heated rivals to ever walk these halls… second only to Slytherin and Gryffindor themselves, were seated side by side.

I couldn't pry my eyes away from him. He hadn't changed all that much in appearance since last we'd met. He'd kept his hair long and loosely tied, and his eyes were still the frosted blue that I remembered. But something about him seemed different. A little more subdued, perhaps.

"Potter…" And the way he said my name… it gave me chills. Which is rather curious, indeed… because there was no ice to it. If anything, it sounded warm, what with the way it floated to my ears on a whisper. I blinked and closed my open mouth, coughing once in slight embarrassment. Berating myself for my foolishness all the while. Staring at him like an idiot wasn't the best idea, I'd imagine. With that in mind, I strove for an easy smile instead and finally spoke.

"It's been a long time, Draco. I hear you're doing well…" Ah but if only I'd had a camera on me, even a muggle one. For the expression he wore upon registering my words was absolutely priceless.

"You hear? Not to sound rude, but we hardly run within the same social circles. Well, more to the point, I_ have_ a social circle. I hear these days that you are rarely ever seen beyond these walls…"

I heard both the question at my knowledge and at my own wellbeing hidden within the statement, and felt a warm swirl bubbling in the pit of my stomach. It was a welcomed sensation, indeed. One that I haven't felt in years…

"I grew tired of the mobs of people wanting to hear about my every waking moment. I've always been a rather private person and I doubt that will ever change… Though I will say that I do, in fact, have friends. Even if some would rather bite off their own tongue then ever admit to it. Your Godfather is one example of such a person." I couldn't have hid the amusement in my tone, or the smile on my lips if my life had depended upon it. And the wide-eyed gaze I received in return did nothing to quell either.

"Surely you lie!" His words were spot on. Exactly what I'd expected, but the amusement with which he spoke them, was not. And then he tossed his head back and laughed. Really laughed. And the sight he made, eyes alight and hair flowing with every move of his head… it mesmerized me. I was completely and utterly entranced.

"I speak nothing but the truth, I assure you. If, however, you are inclined to believe otherwise, then perhaps you should owl him and ask how many times I've been over to have tea since he's retired." He gagged jokingly and shook his head twice.

"And now I pity you. Really, I do. The man can brew anything under the sun with perfection. Anything except a decent cup of tea."

I found myself nodding vehemently, smiling broadly. "A flaw he seems to have no desire to rectify…"

He cut me off, waving his hand as if he were shooing someone away. "No matter how many times I have tried, he never wants anything that doesn't taste like absolute bullocks."

I snickered behind my hand, completely unsurprised by the fact. "And that term is being kind, indeed."

"Harry, Draco... Though I am pleased to see that you two are getting along so well, after all these years, I thought you might be interested to know that dinner has ended. And quite some time ago, at that." I turned my attention from Dumbledore to drag my eyes over the great hall, and found that he'd been telling the truth. We three were the only ones left, and all of the tables were barren. I smiled at him and stood.

"Thank you, Albus… We'll be seeing you at breakfast, I'm sure." He smiled and shook his head slightly.

"I am afraid that I will be absent from breakfast tomorrow, but perhaps I'll have returned in time for lunch. I bid you both a good night." It wasn't until I'd made it into the halls that I noticed Draco was still at my side. My quarters were actually right next to the D.A.D.A. room, but I'd been intending to take a walk through the school to clear my head slightly.

"Potions, Draco?" My question was merely that, a question. I was curious, because yes he'd always done well in that class, but I'd thought for sure he would have wanted a more prestigious position then that of a simple potions master. His chuckle was quiet, and his reply soft.

"I know what you're thinking, but yes, Potions. I wanted something a little simpler for the time being. And some of my happiest times as a child and a young man were spent here. I saw no reason to refuse Dumbledore when he approached me."

I nodded along and laughed lightly. "You speak as if you're as old as Dumbledore himself. You are still a young man, yet." The heavy sigh that he released a moment later caught my attention and I glanced at him from the corner of my eye as he bent his head slightly.

"My years may only number twenty five, but I feel as if I am far older then that. Worn and weary." I smiled and nodded once, knowing exactly how he felt.

"Well then perhaps you can learn to feel your age again. Heavens know this place has done wonders for me in that regard." He nodded once, but didn't speak. And soon after that, we parted ways. Draco to his rooms, while I ventured out towards the grounds... I found myself standing on the same spot that he and I had stood back then. And for once my heart didn't throb dully within my chest. And curiously, my face held a smile, instead of a frown.

It became commonplace from then on that when we weren't teaching our respective classes, we were spending time together. Patrolling the halls, or walking the grounds, or playing wizard's chess… Which as it turned out, he was crap at. A fact that made me smile quite often, considering I wasn't the best player myself, but I still managed to beat him in almost every game we played. And on the weekends when we didn't have to supervise the students, we were free to come and go as we pleased. On one of those weekends, I took him to Muggle London. I'd had a few reasons for it. One, I wasn't sure that he'd ever been and two, I wasn't sure if he'd ever had a muggle beer.

He'd liked it, he said, but still preferred butter beer.

We drank together often, as well. Laughing and telling stories well into the night, over a glass of firewhiskey, or four… It was on one such a night, that we were in Draco's rooms in the Dungeons. Sitting in front of a blazing fire, and sharing a bottle that I'd procured just the day before. We were well on our way to being truly pissed, having had more then half the bottle between us, and he was telling me a story from our school days. I really wasn't paying attention to his words, though. I was watching his face as it lit up in his excitement, and his arms waved about as he spun his tale. The piece of leather that he usually used to bind his hair had come loose at some point. And I'd noticed it just as a stray lock of long pale blonde hair fell over his face, right over his left eye. Without thinking, I moved to tuck it behind his ear. An action that I would never have allowed myself, were I sober… But even as I was cursing myself silently, I watched as several different emotions flitted through his features, through his usually calm and cool eyes. But it happened far too quickly for me to pick out a single one to identify. He set his drink down and stood, looking to the clock on the wall.

"It's getting rather late isn't it? We both have lessons first thing. I think it might be best if I bid you goodnight, now." I nodded and swallowed what was left of my own glass and set it down beside his. Smiling to myself at how right that looked to me.

"That might be prudent, yes." I stood and made my way to the door, stopping just before I stepped through it. "Hey Draco, do you ever think about…" I trailed off and shook my head. "Never mind. Stupid question. Sleep well then, yeah?" And with that I was gone, stumbling back to my rooms, and mumbling to myself the whole way. Because I am a fool, of that there is no doubt. To ask him the questions that I desperately wanted answers to would be madness. I already knew the answers, after all. Does he ever think about that night out in the cold? Or that single night in that abandoned classroom, the very same room we pass almost every single day? The answer was simple.

No.

He'd left that behind, years ago… a _lifetime_ ago. I was the only one who still felt like this, who still wanted him. And as much as it pains me to be near him at times, I value his friendship, so I would endure it. Silently.

It was clear in the way we spoke, in the way he regarded me… that he no longer thought of me in any romantic light. And it felt rather pathetic to learn that. To know that I was the only one who had never let go, after all this time. That I probably never would…

But I accept it.

And I do so for two basic reasons. One, because I didn't really have much choice, and two… Well, two, because I couldn't stand to be away from him now. I knew him too well… Became too accustomed to his company, his presence. Somehow, some way, he'd become my closest friend. I would not lose him again. That simply isn't an option.

It seemed so sudden, but before we knew it, an entire year had passed. My holidays had been spent at the school, while Draco had gone home. It had been rather lonely, walking the halls without him. And when the year ended he'd left, for home, as I knew he would. No one but Dumbledore knew that I lived at the school when and where possible. Meaning nearly all year round. As close as we'd become, I hadn't the spine to tell him.

To tell him that I'm so pathetic that I can't stand to be on my own… Alone. No, I can't have him knowing I'm that weak. As odd as it may sound, I need people near, but I can't stand to have them too close. Curious, isn't it? But I can't let them see how pathetic their savior has become.

And it _is_ pathetic.

Because I want so badly to share this burden with someone... To know what it's like to not feel lonely anymore. I guess it simply isn't meant to be, though. After all, everyone wants to shag the boy-who-lived… but no one wants to hold him when the nightmares come.

No one wants _me_.

I have entertained the idea of running away from it all and living as a muggle, more then once. Well, more times then I can count really. But I just can't bring myself to do it. Coward that I am…


	4. Watching those colors change

Full Chapter Title: Watching those colors change, inside your eyes...

A/N: Please forgive the wait! It has been done for so very long now, but I simply haven't had the time! Also, I've been trying to fix the pace with which things progress as it never seems to sit well with me. Ah well, the muses do as they like, I suppose. Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review and tell me!

Now... on with the fic...

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More time passed, as it is known to do. It's midway through the summer now... the evening of my birthday, in fact. Sitting in my chambers, drinking a glass of firewhiskey, I reread the letters that both Ron and Hermione had written me, respectively, to wish me a happy birthday. There had been gifts, of course. 'Mione had sent a book, as usual, and Ron sent a pair of tickets to the Chudley Cannons next game. Dumbledore had also sent along a present, though I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it. That particular Pensive sat among a string of memories I never did care to think on too long. Even if it now contained within it most precious memories of a different sort…

I'd spent nearly all evening pouring everything significant that had ever happened between Draco and I into that very Pensive. And I'd begun drinking soon after revisiting the first that I'd poured in. It was always bittersweet thinking on them. But actually seeing and feeling them once more only intensified even the slightest pull on my heartstrings a hundred fold. So I had turned back to the letters from my dearest friends for a proper distraction.

I smiled at the stark contrast of Ron's sloppy scrawl next to Hermione's perfect loops and set the letters down, just as a knock sounded at my door. I frowned and stood, leaving my glass on the coffee table as I made my way over to answer. Curiously, I opened the door, to find Draco standing behind it. A pleased, warm grin adorned his face. I blinked once, twice, and still couldn't believe it.

"Happy birthday, Harry." He held a bottle of champagne up, as well as a small package, wrapped in red and gold. My shock must have showed upon my face, for he laughed and shouldered me aside, making himself comfortable on my sofa. "You didn't think that I'd forgotten, did you?" I had turned to face him. But my jaw was still dropped in surprise and the door was still wide open. This again, seemed to amuse him. His laugh was bright and full. It echoed throughout my chambers and in my ears. "Dear god. Everyone and their mother knows full well exactly when your birthday is… So don't look so aghast. I daresay it doesn't suit you."

I blinked and closed the door, my brows furrowed in total puzzlement as I turned to face him. "It's not that… It's just… How did you know where I was? And why…" I hadn't had the chance to finish my questions, for he waved his hand as if the shoo away a house elf, popped the bottle open and transfigured two quills into proper flutes all before I'd had the time to blink.

"Did you think I hadn't known? That I had no idea you spend all of your time here?" He paused to laugh again. Though I did note that it was a lighthearted laugh, and not at all as derisive as I had originally feared. "It wasn't exactly hard to figure out, Harry." I scrubbed a hand through my unruly hair and sighed with a slight nod, because that was true. I hadn't bothered to keep such a thing a secret. I just hadn't told anyone of it, or spoken to anyone but Dumbledore about it. But it shouldn't come as any sort of surprise to learn that someone else could figure it out. Especially when that person spends so much time with me.

I smiled and took a seat next to him as he poured each of us a glass. Accepting the one he held aloft for me, I shook my head lightly as my face flushed in pleasure and embarrassment. "I wasn't exactly hiding the fact either. I simply didn't think it was something worth mentioning. But tell me… why are you here? You didn't have to go to all this trouble. Nor did you have to buy me a gift. This unexpected visit is more then enough…"

Again he waved my words away, but this time… his smile was as bright and as warm as the sun on a summer day. "Harry… Do shut up, and graciously accept the gifts you've been given." And really, but how could I argue with that? I clinked our glasses together lightly, and nodded once before taking a long slow sip. I closed my eyes to prevent them from staring as he lifted his own glass to do the same. A couple of hours passed in a bubbly haze. We'd finished the bottle an hour in, before moving on to the stronger spirits.

Once thoroughly intoxicated, he'd pushed his present into my hands before sprawling on his back on the sofa. With his head on the armrest… his eyes shining. "Go on then, Harry… Open it." I'm not sure why my hands shook while I carefully peeled back the wrapping. Though, I did find it convenient to blame it on the drink during that split second.

A second later, I lost my breath. Warmth that had nothing to do firewhiskey settled onto my cheeks, and into the pit of my stomach. Bubbling like a cauldron and rising inside me in a tide that threatened to carry me away. It was a small photo album… an album that contained several pictures. Pictures of Sirius Black as a young man... Pictures that, I found as I turned the page, also contained Remus, and even my father. A different kind of warmth flooded over the right side of my body, startling me, as he slid next to me and turned another page. And my mother, frowning and pointing at my father and yelling, while a young Snape stood behind her met my eyes. I couldn't breathe. "Wh-where did you get these?"

I turned to face him, and he was so very close… and something caught me, maybe the firelight shifted, or perhaps I was far more intoxicated then I realized… but I was utterly entranced. I swallowed thickly and couldn't turn away from him in that moment if my life had depended upon it. And I couldn't imagine a better moment. Sitting there… Watching the colors change inside his eyes… from blue… to grey. "My mother is a Black, Harry. There are several things she was able to procure over the years from her family… This was one of them. I thought… I think it should belong to you, instead." His voice was low, soft, and filled me with the urge to lean closer, to just be as close as possible to him. I swallowed thickly. Still unable to catch my breath, I reached for him without thinking.

The skin under my fingertips was just as soft as I remembered. Just as flawless. I rubbed my thumb over his cheekbone lightly, and stared at the way he licked his lips. And I realized with a start, that he was nervous. I pulled my hand back as if I'd been burned… because on some level, I had. He didn't want me to touch him. That much was plain. I looked back down to the album resting in my lap and pulled it to my chest, hugging it close. I hung my head and closed my eyes.

"Thank you, Draco… I don't have the proper words… I. Just, thank you." I wasn't prepared for the feel of gentle fingertips, slowly carding through my ever-unruly hair. And my eyes shot open as I gasped. But my reaction must have bothered him in some way, because he stopped, his hand going eerily still. Timidly, I inclined my head towards him, a silent offer to continue. An offer, sure… But really, I wanted it more then anything in the world. Was even prepared to beg for it. I didn't have to, though. His fingers began dancing through my hair in the most soothing manor, all on their own. A deep, rumbling and contented sigh left me… and I closed my eyes to better focus on the tingling heat his fingertips were evoking.

I awoke with a start the next morning in my bed, still clutching the album to my chest, and with no recollection as to how I'd gotten there. I carefully set the album on my nightstand and stretched, before standing.

He was gone again, it seemed. I'd checked his quarters and everywhere else in the castle for that matter, but the man was nowhere to be found. Just as well, I supposed. I shrugged it off and went about my typical routine. And continued to do so until school resumed yet again.

To say that things were a bit strained between us was a bit of an understatement. There was a heady undercurrent of tension. One that refused to subside, no matter what I might have attempted to soothe it. What was worse is I couldn't even name it. We still ate together at every meal, still talked in between classes… still had our evening nightcap together… but things were different. And I couldn't seem to fix it.

He shied away from my touch now.

Which was entirely unexpected. And I don't mean that he ran from me, or anything that extravagant. It was simply that if I happened to clap his back, or touch his arm, anything at all really… and I'd suddenly find him ten paces away, in the blink of an eye. But it felt as if he might as well have been in the Americas. The distance between us was that palpable. I was losing him all over again, and it hurt. More so even, because he was still here... It wasn't because he'd simply vanished this time. And I couldn't stand by and do nothing. Not this time around.

It was on the night that I had decided enough was enough, that things seemed to fall apart.

Draco had been known to pop by my rooms whenever he liked, and more then once it happened that I hadn't the chance to return yet. And if time permitted, he'd sit and wait for my return. Sighing impatiently once I arrived. So it wasn't that I'd found him in my rooms yet again, that was startling me so.

But I couldn't believe what I was seeing, all the same.

Draco standing in my chambers… with his face buried in my pensive. The one that held my most precious memories… The one that I hadn't told him or anyone else of… Because it was private… Because it was mine alone, to reminisce over… And I knew, as I stood there, stunned. I knew what he was watching. What he was seeing… through my eyes. And it hurt. I couldn't breathe, and my heart twisted ever so painfully. I walked over to his side and pulled him out abruptly. His face showed a few different emotions, but he covered them all far too quickly and they were gone before I could make out exactly what they might be. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

His mouth opened and closed a few times while he tried to think of something suitable to say in reply. When that something wasn't forthcoming, I scrubbed a hand over my face and sighed. "Well I think that about sums it up, then. Doesn't it? Perhaps you should go now, yeah?" I felt a light touch to my shoulder and I flinched away from it, as though it had stung. And on some level, it had.

"Harry…"

"Draco. Just… leave me. Please." The last word caught in my throat, and came out a choked, cracked sound that barely resembled a word. I still hadn't looked up, as my hand still covered my face. I couldn't stand the thought of him seeing my pain right after so much of me had already been exposed and laid bare before him. I hadn't intended for him to know… To ever find out that I was utterly and unequivocally in love with him... And there was certainly no denying it now. He'd seen at least some of what I hold most dear. My most precious possessions… There was absolutely no way he didn't know.

It wasn't until I heard his retreating footsteps that I removed the hand from my face, if only to let the pain in my chest manifest into tiny drops of pure self loathing. These droplets fell from my eyes in a seemingly never-ending stream… And in my anger and frustration I picked up the corner of my coffee table, and sent both it and its contents crashing to the floor. The sound was oddly soothing to me in a way that couldn't truly describe. So I found other things to throw and smash into millions of pieces.

An hour later, I was spelling everything back together again, and trying desperately to think of a way to fix everything else. Lamenting that there was no magical spell to help me there. No easy fix. I suppose that the only thing to do would be to move forward, with my head held high. After all, I am not ashamed of the way I feel. There is nothing wrong with what I feel for Draco. He may not see it that way, but I know I'm right in this. How one feels can never be wrong. It is what one does, about and with those feelings, which can be wrong.

And I intended to stand by my feelings with dignity.


	5. You want for answers, and I can't reply

A/N: Alright, I know I'm an ass for leaving it the way I did, but I made sure to return promptly with the next chapter so that you all didn't have to wait terribly long for the next update. Read/Review and enjoy!

Warning: This contains scenes of a sexual nature between two people of the same sex. You have been duly warned. Now, on with the fic!

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The next day came much sooner then I would have liked. And I ate my meals within the walls of my rooms. I did not attend to anything outside of my classes, and it wasn't because I was running. I was allowing myself the day to mourn.

Things would change between us again. And even if I couldn't bear it with a smile, I would stand it. But this day, this day was to allow the wallowing and self-pity and a tear or two. Shed on behalf of all that I'd lost.

It was half past midnight when I found my solitude interrupted. I was well into a bottle of fire whiskey, and halfway through my latest glass when the portrait to my chambers opened up. He stood there, rumpled and tired looking, but his eyes… they were raging storms. Twin pools of electricity… Their rage aimed squarely upon my face.

"Harry sodding Potter! I'll have a word with you!" I frowned, furrowing my brows, utterly perplexed at his anger and tone. After all, it was I, who should've been angered, was it not? I gulped down the last of my glass and clumsily set it upon my table, brushing a weary hand over my face.

"I cannot do this tonight, Draco. I simply can't. Tomorrow, or any other night that you wish is perfectly fine by me. But allow me this one evening?" His anger seemed to pause at my tone. In truth, I hadn't meant for my words to come out as the plea that they had. But I wasn't about to take them back. Not now, at any rate. Because they were true… and because I was stubborn…

He stomped over to where I sat, his face the picture of fierce determination. "I'll have a word with you now, I think. After all, I've come all this way haven't I?" He loomed over me now, his eyes taking in my own rumpled and unkempt appearance. I sighed and leaned up and forward, to pour myself another glass. Then, as an afterthought, I poured one for him. Let it never be said that Harry Potter was not a gracious host.

"Then speak your mind and be done with it…" I paused, handing him his customary glass. "But be forewarned, that come the morrow, I expect I'll have plenty to say in turn. Yeah?" He scoffed, but it wasn't derisive. And he took my pre-offered glass gently. I took that to be his acquiescence. If ever I were to receive any at all. His eyes stayed fixed upon mine while he sipped. And I did the same in turn. Quietly waiting for him to rage, but something in the atmosphere had shifted. And it occurred to me, that perhaps he wasn't here to fight. Whatever it might have seemed upon his arrival, he didn't seem angry. Just determined.

He took a long draught, finishing his glass in one final swig and placed it back on the table before he spoke again.

"I told you once not to start…" Then he waved his hand as if to erase the thought and begin anew. "I do not understand you." I hadn't meant to scoff, but the drink had traveled to my head, and I hadn't thought before allowing it to escape. He seemed annoyed, but persisted. " I don't understand you at all! Even after all these years you still confuse me. If you wanted… Why didn't you? You could have…"

"Speak _plainly_, Draco. I'm too tired and far too old for riddles and games." Again, my hand drifted to my face, attempting to wipe away the weariness it held. But a warm hand upon mine stopped me, mid gesture.

"You lied to me." I blinked and allowed my eyes to shoot up to meet his. A frown stealing over my features…

"I have never lied to you. Not once. Not since…" I cut myself off and began again. "I haven't had cause or concern to lie to you in a very long time, Draco. I may not have told you everything outright. But I have neither lied to you in turn."

His features hardened, the lines of his face smoothing into a mask, and he dropped my hand from his, so suddenly that a chill crept up my spine as his warmth left it. "Then what you said back then still holds true?" His words were ice. So frigid and cutting that I felt physically struck by them. But I couldn't figure out why. For they held no meaning to me... What words? What had I said… and back then? Back when?

"I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning. Speak plainly. For once in your life, Draco… say it outright." Again, it was a plea. Though I hadn't meant for it to be. And something in my voice, or maybe my face, spoke to him. Because he sighed, and then took in one long breath before dropping his head. His shoulders sagged as if the fight, the _will_, had gone out of him entirely.

"It isn't fair, Harry. It just isn't fair… or right. To play games with someone's heart. It's cruel, you know? I've spent far too long…" He cut himself off and turned, making to leave. A rage I hadn't known I possessed took hold of me, then. I stood and cut off his escape route, laying a hand upon his elbow. Making sure to keep it light, so that he knew he could pull free if he liked.

"You? _You've_ spent far too long? Draco Malfoy, you sodding prat! How dare you? How fucking _dare_ you, I say?" My left hand, which had been idle at my side, reached up and cupped his cheek ever so tenderly. I let my eyes fall to half-mast as I savored the feeling of his skin under my palm yet again. My voice, losing all power, came out a thin whisper as I fought for air. "You've haunted me for years… I have seen nothing and no one but you since I was fifteen years old. Better yet, younger still! And you have the audacity to claim me as the one playing games here? Tread carefully, Draco. For you know naught of which you speak." And as I said the words, my eyes were drawn to his mouth, which had parted in a gasp…

It seemed like quite the proper invitation to me.

So I kissed him. I pulled him into my arms, and held his slighter frame close while our lips finally came together. He let loose a whimper and I swallowed it eagerly. Groaning at the way his tongue met mine so easily. Soft and wet…welcoming and warm… I pressed forward, pulling him closer and claimed his mouth as my own. I don't know when I'd done it, but when we parted for air, I found that I'd pressed him back against the chamber walls, tangling my fingers into his silken locks. He shuddered and gasped, moaning my name as I moved to suckle his neck between kisses.

I pulled his robes off slowly, savoring every inch of newly exposed flesh, and paying it proper worship with my lips and tongue for good measure. His hands roamed over every part of my body within his reach but I wanted to savor him. To memorize every curve, every line of his body... I knelt before him, after he'd been stripped bare, standing in the middle of my quarters, and took in his beauty breathlessly. Licking him until he shook with the strain it took to remain standing… begging for me, for _more_.

Past that it was a blur of skin and fire and heat and _Draco_. I had him splayed underneath me… panting, begging, and_ moaning_ for me… His skin tasted divine… and ever so sweet. His mouth curved up to met mine at every turn… His body, heavens, his _body_… The things it told me under my touches. The way his eyes couldn't lie to my hands, to me. The slightest caress had him arching into me, and I could have died, there in that moment. I could have died and been a happy man. But the way he looked at me, when I touched him and brought him to the brink of pleasure and back again… it was the closest thing to heaven I swear that I will ever bear witness to. Right until his body shuddered, and he called my name as the proof of his pleasure spilled from him. And then I was lost to intense heat and satisfaction in turn. Clutching him to me as if he were the only thing keeping me alive.

Hours later, sated, spent, curled around each other, and very close to slumber; he tucked his head under my chin and held me tight. "I don't understand you, Harry…"

I frowned and kissed the top of his head, running my fingers through his long tangled tresses. "What don't you understand, love?"

He let out a small sigh and curled just the tiniest bit closer, his words coming out in the smallest whisper that I've ever heard him utter…

"You said you didn't want me… Back then. But I saw… I saw that you did. At least a little… And I didn't just imagine it."

It took my sleepy and sated mind a moment to catch up with his words and the meaning behind them. Recalling the memory, I sighed and kissed his head once again, drawing light circles over the span of his back.

"I said I didn't belong to anyone… But you hadn't let me finish. Besides, I was young then. And I hadn't known…" I trailed off and rolled onto my back, gently urging him to follow so that he lay against my chest. Then I felt him frown against my skin and shift to look up into my eyes, tone and expression uncertain.

"What hadn't you known?"

I smiled down at him and stole a quick kiss.

"I'd already belonged to you… and for some time, at that. I was just too dense to realize it. I've been yours for well over ten years now. I wanted you so badly, then. I wanted you with everything I had… Did you really not know?"

He was quiet for a long time after that.

But then, he shifted, and pulled out of my arms. I panicked and attempted to bring him back, but he merely chuckled. "I'm not leaving… just give me a moment, yeah?" I frowned, but nodded, and lay back, letting the tension that had appeared drift out of my still sluggish muscles. He returned a few short moments later, after riffling through his robes, which I'd tossed to the far end of the rooms in my haste. Pressing something small and cool into my hands, he sighed and curled himself around me once more.

I lifted the object up for inspection and tilted my head in curiosity. Utterly perplexed.

"They're memories… I thought… I think it only right that if I saw into your private memories, that you should have the chance to see into mine." Still, I was confused, and it must have shown plainly upon my face, for he sighed and went on. "It's why I came here tonight. I intended to give it to you, as a sort of peace offering…"

I cut him off…

"Then why did you look as though you'd intended to cut off my very manhood when you arrived?"

He laughed and ducked his head, dropping a small kiss upon my chest. "Malfoy's never say they're sorry. I've never had the cause to do so before either. I… I didn't know how to go about it…"

I laughed uproariously, "So you chose to storm in looking as if you'd had a mind to hex me into next week?'

Even he couldn't hold his laughter back then, and tossed his head back gracefully. "Oh _do_ shut up, you prat!" I continued to laugh, before I returned my attention to his offering…

"So exactly what is it in these memories that I'm meant to see?"

He smiled and gently pried the bottle from my hands. "You'll just have to find out after lessons tomorrow. But right now, it's late, and we need rest…" He set the small jar upon the nightstand and curled back into my side with a deep and satisfied sigh. "Goodnight, Harry."

I kissed his forehead, then lay back and curled my fingers into his hair.

"Goodnight, Draco."

'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'

A/N: Thoughts anyone? *Smiles* I'll update as soon as I can... but there isn't much left to the story. Fair warning to you all.


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